


Dress For Success

by RedShirtWriter34567



Category: Camping (TV 2018), Dead Long Enough (2006)
Genre: Boyfriends, Clothing Kink, Dirty Talk, Dressing Room Sex, Finger Sucking, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Mirror Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29153805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShirtWriter34567/pseuds/RedShirtWriter34567
Summary: Walt wants to accompany Harry to a red carpet event but he doesn't have anything to wear. Harry brings him to his tailor and finds himself quite affected at seeing his boyfriend dressed up.
Relationships: Harry Jones/Walt Jodell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Dress For Success

Walt and Harry stood in the walk-in closet in their bedroom, rummaging around inside. Walt scoffed as he pushed aside some crisp suit jackets still in plastic bags.

“I think you have more clothes than any man I’ve ever met,” he told Harry. “Are these Armani?”

“Some of them,” Harry replied. “Others are by Versace.” 

Walt chuckled and rolled his eyes, shaking his head fondly. He sighed as he continued to sort through the clothes before him. There were suits, leather and suede jackets, designer sweaters by Ralph Lauren, collared shirts. Another part of the closet held dress shoes, boots, sneakers, even a few pairs of sandals. Above that was a row of hooks where belts, neckties, and bowties all hung neatly. Walt ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, turning to him.

“Nothing,” Walt replied, rubbing his neck. “Did you find anything I could wear?”

“A few things,” Harry answered, holding up a button-down shirt patterned with little embroidered palm trees. “What about this and some nice jeans?”

“I don’t know,” Walt said. “Jeans at a red carpet event? Is that appropriate?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Harry asked. “I’ve worn jeans to them before and nobody ever said anything.”

“Because your jeans are designed by professionals and cost over a hundred dollars,” Walt retorted. “You look perfect in everything, Harry. No matter what I wear I’ll look like an idiot standing next to you.”

Harry frowned and hung up the shirt again, then came over to his disgruntled lover, pulling him into a hug. Walt sighed and hugged him back, pressing his face against Harry’s soft long hair. 

“You’re overthinking this, Cariad,” Harry said softly, rubbing his lover’s back. “It doesn’t matter what the press or the others will think. What matters is that I love you no matter what you choose to wear.”

He kissed Walt’s cheek when his boyfriend’s pulled back, still staying in his arms. Walt looked troubled and he rubbed his neck again.

“This will be our first appearance as a couple,” he said. “I want to look good, like I belong on your arm, like I belong there. But I’ve never had to dress up for anything fancier than a school function.”

Walt’s brown eyes gleamed behind his glasses, looking troubled. Harry rubbed his forearms soothingly.

“Okay, Cariad,’ he said. “Since it means that much to you, I think I know someone who can help us.”

“Really?” Walt asked.

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “My tailor, David. His shop is in the city in the square. He’s amazing and has made a lot of my suits for red carpet events and premieres. He’ll measure you and then have you try on some stuff, see what looks good.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Walt said with relief and a bright smile, making his eyes glitter happily once again.

Harry grinned back and kissed his lover on the lips. “Anything for you, Cariad.”

A few days later, Harry and Walt drove into Cardiff late in the afternoon. They pulled up outside a small but elegant building between a bank and a cafe. The building looked almost like a bar or a tavern, a wooden sign hanging over the door shaped like a dragon spewing fire. Emblazoned in gold lettering on the front windows in English and in Welsh was, “David Burroughs’ Screaming Dragon Tailor Shop. Walk-ins welcome.’

“Screaming Dragon?” Walt asked as he and Harry exited the car. 

“Our flag has a dragon on it,” Harry replied with a shrug. “I’m pretty sure it’s a law here that every business has to have that word in it someway or another.”

Walt laughed as he followed Harry up onto the pavement. Behind the windows were mannequins, a male one on the left wearing a dark tuxedo and a female one on the right dressed in a flowing blue gown. Harry opened the door for Walt and they entered, a little bell above the door ringing as they did. The inside of the shop was lit warmly with sconces on the walls and small chandeliers on the high ceiling. Dark glossy shelves and cases held fabrics of various colours and patterns, ranging from solid reds and blues to bright stripes and plaid. 

“David?” Harry called. 

“I’ll be right with you,” a man called from the back of the shop.

A moment later, he appeared in view, wearing a smart, charcoal-grey suit and a matching vest, an ebony tie at his throat. His hair was short and parted on one side, glasses hanging from a thin chain around his neck. He smiled widely when he spotted Harry and pulled him into a handshake.

“Harry Jones, as I live and breathe,” the man said. “It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve had you in here.”

“It’s been a long time, David,” Harry replied. “How’s life been treating you? Tailored anyone special lately?”

“Not particularly,” David admitted. He clapped his hands together, the sound making Walt jump. “So, Harry, what am I fitting you with today? A suit for a new premier?”

“Maybe some other time,” Harry said. He turned and gestured for Walt to come closer. “This is my boyfriend, Walt, I told you about. He needs a suit for a red carpet event coming up next weekend.”

“So, you’re the famous Walt,” David said. “Harry’s told me so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Thanks,” Walt said, holding out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, David.”

They shook and David ushered them to the back of the shop, where a circle of leather couches and a glass coffee table stood before a couple mirrors arranged in front of and around a small dais. There were some doors on either side of the mirrors that read ‘Dressing Rooms.’ 

“What are we looking for, gents?” David asked. “Something bold and striking? Or perhaps something more calm but still eye-catching?”

Walt blushed. “I don’t know. I’ve never shopped for something as fancy as a red carpet event. Never been to a tailor in my life either.”

“I see,” David mused. He looked at Harry. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Not really,” Harry replied with a shrug. “I think I’ll let you work your magic, David. You’ve never failed me when it comes to clothes.”

“And I shall not start now,” David promised. He turned to Walt again. “Step up onto the platform, if you would, please, Walt.”

Walt obeyed and David whipped a tape measure out of his pocket. Harry sat down on the center leather couch, watching as David measured the length of Walt’s legs, then his arms, making him hold them straight out. David then measured Walt’s waist and even his neck, first holding it straight then wrapping around the American’s throat loosely, examining the measurements like a scientist looking through a microscope. Afterward he tucked the tape measure away and took Walt’s chin gently in his hand.

“You have remarkable bone structure,” David said. “Your cheekbones and jawline are like a Greek sculpture.”

“Thank you,” Walt replied, his face turning pink.

Harry chuckled. He loved how embarrassed Walt always got when someone, mostly him, gave him a compliment. David turned Walt’s face gently, studying him from different angles.

“Let’s stick with dark colours,” David said. “Those will stand out better thanks to your fair skin, though perhaps a splash of colour will bring out your eyes.”

“Okay,” Walt replied, sounding a bit confused.

David nodded and stepped away, then disappeared from view for a few minutes. Harry and Walt could hear him rummaging around in the clothing racks behind the fitting area. 

“I think I see why you like him,” Walt told Harry, hands in his jeans pockets. 

“Yeah, he’s a bit eccentric but most former fashion designers are,” Harry agreed. “He designed clothes for a few princesses in England and in Sweden.”

Walt raised both his eyebrows, impressed. David returned, holding two garment bags and a shoe box. He handed them to Walt, who took them.

“Try the one with the gold label on first,” David told him. “I think that will look better with these shoes.”

“Okay,” Walt said. “Thanks.”

He stepped off the platform and vanished inside one of the fitting rooms. He was inside for several minutes, almost like he was hesitating before he finally opened the door. Harry’s eyes widened as his lover reappeared and stood up on the platform again. He wore a black tuxedo and white dress shirt, a grey-striped bow tie at his throat. The polished black Oxfords added to his height, giving him another inch or so. Harry thought he looked amazing but David clicked his tongue.

“Black is far too formal,” he said. “And the bow tie doesn’t work well either. Try the other thing on.”

Walt obeyed and went back into the fitting room. Harry licked his lips and took a sip of the cold sparkling water waiting on the table. Walt came back out wearing a grey suit but had barely stood on the platform for a minute before David shook his head.

“Grey is too depressing,” he said. “It’s like you’re going to a funeral or someone’s prison sentence.”

For the next hour, Walt tried on suit after suit that David brought him. Harry thought his lover looked gorgeous each time, but David kept tutting and shaking his head. Walt shot Harry an uncertain look before he vanished into the fitting room again with another garment bag. Harry pulled out his phone and scrolled through the news feed, then took another drink of water. 

“I think we’ve finally found a winner, Harry,” David said suddenly. 

Harry looked up from his phone and then choked on his water, coughing, droplets dripping down his chin. Walt stood on the platform and he looked mesmerizing. He wore a navy-blue tuxedo jacket with matching slacks and black Brogues. Beneath the jacket, he wore a crisp white shirt and a sky-blue vest. Standing out against the fabric was a neatly folded, red-and-black tartan pocket square, and at Walt’s throat hung a cherry-red necktie with thin blue stripes. The colours stood out against his pale skin and his eyes gleamed, chocolate-brown and warm behind his glasses.

“How do I look, love?” he asked Harry, running his hands over his front a little sheepishly.

Harry didn’t respond. It was like his brain had stopped functioning. He stared with his mouth open until David let out a snort.

“His silence means you look bloody fantastic,” he told Walt. “Turn around and see for yourself.”

Walt did and Harry blinked, his eyes admiring the slope of Walt’s back beneath the blue fabric, the shape of his shoulders, down to his arse, which looked so perfect and tight, the suit fitting his lithe frame perfectly. Harry felt heat stirring in the pit of his stomach, traveling south, making his black jeans tighter.

“Wow,” Walt said as he looked at his reflection. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay to be vain for a bit, darling,” David said. 

Walt chuckled and faced Harry again. “I think I like this one, Harry. What do you think?”

Harry licked his lips, his mouth feeling dry. Warmth continued to pool in his groin and he crossed his legs to hide his growing erection.

“I think you look bloody magnificent,” he told Walt.

Walt’s smile made his eyes twinkle. He turned to David. “I think we’ll take this one.”

“Wonderful,” David said with a clap. “Go ahead and take that off, then bring it to the front so I can ring you up.”

Walt nodded and went into the fitting room again while David walked off to the front of the store. Harry waited a minute before he got up and quietly opened the fitting room door. Walt had his back to him and was meticulously removing the suit. He’d shed the jacket and the tie, as well the vest and the shirt. The wiry width of his back was exposed, the muscles of his shoulders shifting, the smooth line of his spine, leading down to his arse, still being hugged by the blue slacks. Harry closed the door and locked it, the click making Walt look up into the mirror in front of him, seeing Harry behind him.

“Jesus, you scared me, Harry,” Walt said, turning around. “What are you do-”

Harry cut his lover off by pinning him roughly against the mirror and kissing him deeply, running his hands all over his lover’s exposed torso. Walt tensed in surprise for a minute before he relaxed into the kiss and wound his arms around Harry’s shoulders. The actor slid his hands down his boyfriend’s back to his arse, squeezing firmly and grinding against him, feeling Walt’s stirring hardness against his own.

“You looked so bloody good in that suit,” Harry growled against their lips. He nibbled on Walt’s lower lip, making him whine. “You’re so perfect, Walt. And I want to show you how perfect you look, show you what seeing you like that does to me.”

Walt keened and wrapped one leg around Harry’s hip. He tilted his head back against the mirror and Harry began kissing and licking and biting at his neck. Walt’s nails dug into his shoulder blades as Harry bit down on his left earlobe, worrying the tender flesh gently between his teeth. He released it and blew on it, making Walt moan and shiver. He pushed at Harry’s chest and made him sit down on the bench inside the room, straddling his lover’s lap. He tangled a hand in Harry’s hair as they kissed, moaning as they ground their clothed erections together. 

“I want to fuck you, Cariad,” Harry growled, gripping his boyfriend’s narrow hips. 

“Here?” Walt asked. “Now?”

Harry debated that but the friction between their cocks was driving him crazy. He palmed Walt’s through his slacks and his lover whined, pushing into the touch. Harry deftly undid the button and zipper, slipping his hand inside Walt’s underwear, stroking his leaking erection. 

“What about the suit, love?” Walt asked. “We can’t ruin it before we’ve even paid for it.”

“Then try not to come all over it,” Harry purred, taking Walt’s erection out of the fabric confining it, stroking it firmly.  
Walt moaned and undid Harry’s jeans, freeing his boyfriend’s cock as well. Harry took both their erections in his hand, stroking them. Walt thrust his hips to the rhythm of the stroking, moaning and gasping in pleasure.

“Yeah, just like that, Cariad,” Harry moaned. “Grind against me while I jerk us off, you naughty thing.”

Walt groaned and pulled on Harry’s hair, making him tilt his head back and hiss in pleasure. Walt kissed him, his tongue mapping the texture and warmth of his lover’s mouth. Harry slid his other hand up his lover’s back and saw their reflections in the mirror. The muscles in Walt’s back shifted beneath the fair skin as he rocked his hips into Harry’s hand. The air in the room felt warm and thick with lust and need, filled by moans and groans, swallowed up as they made out. Precome from the cocks slicked the way as Harry continued to jerk them off, breathing heavily between passionate kisses.

“I’m close, Harry,” Walt moaned. “Fuck, I’m so close, you’re gonna make me come. Oh, fuck, don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop, Cariad,” Harry growled into his lover’s ear. “Not until you’ve come all over my hand and my cock.”

He ran his thumb over the weeping head of Walt’s cock, smearing the fluid around, twisting his wrist a bit. Walt came and nearly yelled, but Harry kissed him and sloppily to muffle the noise. Warm, white ropes of come coated his hand and his erection, slicking it more. Harry watched the muscles of Walt’s back ripple in the mirror and gritted his teeth, trying to stave off his growing orgasm but then let go. His own cock jerked and spurted hot white seed over his fist and Walt’s softening cock. They slumped against each other, panting. Walt rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and the actor stroked his lover’s sweaty hair, catching his breath.

After a few minutes, Walt shifted and offered Harry a love-drunk smile, his doe-eyes no longer dark with arousal. 

“I guess this means you like the suit, eh?” he teased.

Harry laughed and so did Walt. They traded sweet and gentle kisses until David suddenly called from the front of the shop.

“Everything alright back there?”

Both men jumped and laughed again. Harry released their cocks, but Walt grabbed his hand, looking him in the eye as he sucked their spend off his fingers one by one. Harry groaned again.

“You’re going to kill me, Walt,” he said.

“Shame,” Walt replied teasingly. “I’d hate to go to the red carpet alone.”

Harry rolled his eyes fondly and they stood up again, lips and hair swollen and mussed. Harry stepped out of the room while Walt finished dressing, then came back out, holding a shoe box and the suit’s garment bag. They walked back to the front and Harry paid for the suit, then they said goodbyes to David as they left the store.

“I thought you’d wait till after the red carpet to ravage me,” Walt said as they drove home. 

“Oh, trust me, I plan to,” Harry replied. “Especially since you’re bound to get flirted with, looking like that. Maybe I’ll even fuck you in the limo on the way there, so when you come out all disheveled and well-fucked, people will know you belong to me.”

Walt smiled and Harry did as well, joining their hands and interlacing their fingers on his thigh as they drove home.


End file.
